A Slice of Cake
by Zasterfate
Summary: Jane is the one who takes care of Maura. Cake, comfort, and closeness. Rizzles.
1. A Slice of Cake

Disclaimer: Characters belong to the creators of Rizzoli & Isles. No infringement intended.

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Jane Rizzoli was not the kind of woman you messed with. She wasn't the kind you crossed. And she definitely wasn't the kind you stole from.

Poor bastard didn't know the hell he was in for when as Jane exited the Dirty Robber – a slice chocolate cake in hand, something her best friend Maura Isles had personally requested after a heartbreaking conversation with her biological mother – he ran past the detective, snatching the white paper bag from her in hopes of finding something valuable.

Jane, not one to take theft lightly, whether it be grand or small, simply lifted her hands up to the dark sky and growled an infuriated "Really!" She took a deep breath, watching him, giving him a head start, and thinking about how good it would feel to tackle the breath out of that son of a bitch who just stole Maura's one and only good thing for the night.

Then she took off, high heeled boots and all, chasing him down the empty streets of a back road.

"Boston P.D., you stole from the wrong damsel tonight!" she yelled as she pulled out her firearm, disengaging the safety for dramatic effect.

The young man, clad in all black which included a hoody thrown up over his head stumbled over his own two feet as he realized how much trouble he was in. Not being very experienced in escape routes, he took a fast left into a dead end, cursing under his breath when he turned and saw that the long-haired, dark eyed, raggedly breathing detective was standing there, gun in one hand, cuffs in the other.

Fifteen minutes later, the boy who Jane learned was a high school dropout by the name of Ryan Maguire had been tossed into a holding cell for the night.

"You really chased him down for a slice of cake?" Jane's partner Barry Frost asked as she signed off on her statement, shooting him a grin.

"You kidding? That slice of cake is Maura's saving grace for tonight. You know how stressed out she is dealing with Hope and Cailin? Dammit, Frost. It's got nothing to do with desserts, the kid could've stepped on a snail by accident and I would've called it a freakin' involuntary insecticide!"

Amusement danced in the younger detective's eyes as he surveyed his aggravated friend. "Go on, Jane. I'll call his parents, but you've just bought the P.D. a whole helluva lot of cop jokes now."

She grinned, thinking of what Korsak's reaction would be and reached over for her paper bag, which Frost quickly snatched.

"Nuh uh-uh, Jane. This is now evidence."

Rather than play into his joke, she leaned in and grabbed it anyways, thankful for her longer limbs. "Fine, drop the charges." With that, Jane exited the station, Frost chuckling and calling for an officer to release the boy they only meant to scare.

Soon enough, Jane made it to the medical examiner's house, about to ring the bell when the door flew open as if Maura had been waiting by it.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, taking the little paper bag right out of Jane's hands and into the kitchen. Jane for her part simply closed the door and shrugged out of her jacket, careful to place it neatly over the back of Maura's couch to avoid further upsetting her.

By the time she reached the kitchen, Maura had already set a cold beer out on the counter for Jane before sitting on a stool, hunched over the container of chocolate cake, a position she'd normally never be caught in, while stabbing the dessert like it'd done her a personal wrong.

Jane, with more caution than fear, took the stool next to Maura's, sitting down quietly, perpendicular to her friend, her long legs bent at the knee at the sides of her seat while she simply watched the dark-blonde consume her chocolate cake.

After a moment's hesitation, she sighed and placed a hand on Maura's back, rubbing in gentle circles, but Maura who had been suffering from too many emotions and too much chaos in her life when she was so used to having very little going on family-wise, broke down, mouth full of cake that she couldn't seem to swallow with the sudden sobs.

So Maura spat out the only delicious thing she had tasted all day and turned into Jane who easily accepted the weeping woman into her arms.

It was almost funny to Jane in that moment how tall she was and how while Maura was standing and she was sitting, she was still the perfect height enough for Maura to cry into her shoulder, probably leaving behind chocolate stains on her salmon pink button up. She never really liked pink anyways.

"Come on, sweetie," Jane whispered when she finally stood a few minutes later and half walked, half carried Maura to bed. To Jane, tonight wasn't meant for her to climb into bed besides Maura because Maura needed comfort and she couldn't with a sane mind cuddle with her. So instead, once she tucked Maura in, she found herself sitting on the floor in the dark room, against the bedside, head leaning on the mattress.

Her wild curls were so long though, they scattered out right next to Maura who was turned on her left side, grateful for the back of Jane's head. To her, it meant her friend was right there for her, willing to sit on the floor just to keep her company at one of the worst times in her life, but it also meant that she wouldn't have to face her when she was feeling so crumpled and out of sorts.

Slowly, Maura's hand crept out from under the sheets and hung over the edge, near to Jane's face.

Jane could only smile at the sight and touched her forehead thoughtfully to Maura's fingers before reaching up and enclosing the smaller, dainty hand with her own rougher, scarred one.

"She should have wanted me," Maura sniffled. "My mother should have wanted me."

"Maura," Jane rasped, closing her eyes and wishing she knew just the right words to say. "Your mother does want you. Constance loves and adores you. Hope is just a stranger, like Paddy's a sperm donor, she was the egg donor and the incubator, nothing more."

Maura knew that Jane was right. She was as right as any scientific fact, but it didn't stop the crushing knowledge that stifled her, telling her that all her life, she was nothing more than a problem to be solved. Her father couldn't keep her for her grandfather would have killed her (for reasons she still couldn't comprehend), her mother wasn't aware of her, her adoptive parents weren't prepared for her, her sister before the surgery wanted not a thing to do with her and all of it was getting to Maura. Eating at her. Penetrating all of her coping mechanisms because the emotions were much too potent now that she was really thinking about them.

She wasn't even sure how to lean on Constance for help as they'd always been so distant save for recently, but still, it didn't feel right to tell her adoptive mother about her biological one. Maybe one day, Maura thought, her heart literally aching as she longed for just a hug from Constance, even if it was brief and awkward.

Then came a soft squeeze from Jane's hand to her own. Maura ignored the steady tears trickling down her cheeks and squeezed back. Jane Rizzoli was the kindest, sweetest, and fiercest human being she'd ever known.

Maura couldn't help the rush of closeness she felt to Jane in that instant and to show her affection, she scooted to the very edge of the bed, never releasing her hand from Jane's as her right arm came around the detective's neck, Maura's face resting in her hair as she embraced the other woman tightly and in such a peculiar way.

To Jane, Maura did the oddest things, the funniest things, the most endearing of things and having the doctor attached to her from behind was probably a combination of all three. It made a slow laugh rumble up from deep within her chest, a laugh that made Maura feel safe and smile despite herself.

Jane had chased down a slice of cake because she thought it would be Maura's saving grace.

Funny how that night, it occurred to Maura that that was exactly what Jane was.

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Author's Note: Reviews? Shall I beg? Continue maybe?


	2. Bunny Pancakes and Mac & Cheese

Author's Note: I only meant for this story to be a oneshot, but after the kind reviews and having this scene play out in my head all last night, I couldn't stop myself. This is probably the last part unless I'm found by insane motivation.

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The next morning when Angela Rizzoli entered Maura's home after leaving the guest house, she frowned to see the kitchen in a slight disarray. The stools were out of place, a half-eaten, messy slice of cake was lying stale on the counter with a barely touched, open bottle of beer next to it.

Angela was so used to cleaning up after her three children that without any hesitation, she began straightening out the kitchen and worked her way into the living room to make sure everything was in order out there. However, what she saw was Jane's jacket neatly left on the back of Maura's couch.

A little surprised, she backtracked into the kitchen and concluded that the cake was for Maura and the beer was Jane's.

She wondered why Jane was still here and well, where was she now? Normally, Angela would never invade Maura's privacy. The woman had been much too kind and gracious to her, but when it came to Jane, she was a lost cause and so she silently made her way to Maura's guest bedroom.

Opening the door, she found that the bed was tidy and not a thing was out of place. Jane hadn't slept there, that was for certain.

Angela then padded silently towards Maura's bedroom, a little mechanical in her movements as she wasn't sure what she would find or if she would be all right with any new discoveries.

Yet, when she stumbled upon the sight of Jane and Maura, her heart was warmed to the point of tears. Maura was sprawled out on her bed, half covered by a thin sheet and looking so utterly comfortable, her lips even suggestive of a small, satisfied smile.

Angela hadn't seen Maura so serene for the past few weeks and she knew it had something to do with Hope and Cailin, her two newfound relatives. It astounded Angela how a woman like Maura who had two mothers, two fathers, and a younger sister could still be so alone in the world.

Then she focused on Jane who looked ridiculously at ease though she was camped out on the floor, bracing against Maura's bed like some kind of overly protective bodyguard. Angela internally tsked because Jane still had on her work boots, her dress pants were all creased and her delightfully pink shirt (a color Angela herself had forced Jane to buy) was all wrinkled and there was a dark stain in the shoulder area. The top two buttons of Jane's rumpled shirt were undone, revealing a white tank underneath and Angela studied the gun that was still holstered to her waist.

What really interested Angela was how Jane's arm was bent in the most awkward position behind her head, atop the mattress, securely holding Maura's hand in hers. _Had they held hands all night?_

Angela, even if she tried, could not be more proud of her daughter than right then, seeing the extents she would go to take care of Maura.

Angela herself wished she could be there for Maura more often, but the doctor, while enjoying Angela's motherly presence, also had a hard time letting people get close to her. To see that Jane had broken that barrier of restraint pleased Angela.

Jane, of all her three children was the most dependable. She was the oldest, she was the first to leave the house, go after her dreams, but never did she leave her family behind and with the way she saw families break apart every day, Angela knew how lucky she was to have a girl like Jane.

It brought a smile to her face because she'd remember having long talks with her ex-husband, Frank about their children. They had planned for Jane to marry young, have two or three kids, a cozy home filled with love and a husband who knew how to take care of his wife.

That's why Angela never could stand Casey Jones. She put up with him, but she wanted so much more for her Janie. How dare Casey walk into Jane's life, in and out, come and go as he pleased?

It took for Angela to lose her husband in a divorce to really understand how beautiful companionship was and that to marry a man who could walk away was like marrying a man who didn't exist.

For those reasons, Casey showed no promise because Jane had been nothing but patient and sweet, yet he always had somewhere else to be. That was fine, Angela thought, he had every right to do as he pleased, but why did he keep coming back to hurt Jane again and leave her longing for him?

He was just too nice, too sugary for Angela's taste. He was a military man, but he was too kind and not real enough. She could never get a feel of his personality, what he liked and what he didn't. It seemed like too much of an act for Angela and so she disliked that Jane for so long was involved with him.

Angela clasped her hands together and took a step back to leave Jane and Maura, but the slight creak of the floor had Jane crack one eye open as her free hand reached for her gun, halting mid-move when she realized it was just her mother.

Jane's sudden reaction however startled Maura and suddenly Maura was sitting, Jane was rising and Angela was awkwardly frozen in the doorway.

"Ma, you normally sneak around Maura's room? What if she had guy in here?"

Maura cringed at the thought of Angela walking in on her while she was intimate with anyone and Jane smiled at the priceless expression on her mother's face.

"I – I, no! I saw your jacket in the living room and wanted to see if you were awake. Is everything all right?" Angela asked, gesturing to the two of them and the fact that they fell asleep in such strange positioning.

Jane, not seeing anything wrong in her actions as she'd only been looking out for her friend, shrugged while Maura kicked the sheets off her legs and stood, rubbing Jane's arm gratefully.

"Everything is fine, Jane was just keeping me company," Maura answered. "I had an unfortunate talk with Hope and was a little put out."

"A little?" Jane scoffed and placed her hand over Maura's on her arm. "You got chocolate all over my shirt."

Maura frowned seeing that that was indeed true and felt guilty, but Jane's teasing grin relaxed her.

"So, Ma, since you're here, breakfast? I think Maura would like some bunny shaped pancakes and eggs on the side."

Maura brightened like a five year old and looked at Angela hopefully, an expression that Angela could not deny.

"Of course, and you Jane?" Angela asked, in the mood to spoil her daughter for being so wonderfully caring this morning.

Maura poked Jane in the ribs and laughed, saying, "I think she could go for macaroni and cheese with that terrible instant coffee she secretly keeps in my cupboard."

"It's not really a secret if you know about it," Jane pointed out as she undid the rest of her buttons and Maura moved in behind her to help Jane out of the shirt, making sure to set it on her bed carefully, deciding she would wash it and return it to Jane devoid of the chocolate residue.

"I don't have the heart to throw it out after you went through so much trouble to sneak it in there in the first place."

Angela watched the two interact and turned around to leave them, thinking to herself that despite being a strict Catholic, Italian woman who very much opposed many modern ways of living, she could never deny that Jane never looked more domestic than when she was in the presence of Maura Isles.

In one way, it broke her heart. In another, it brought her peace.

Angela smiled thoughtfully as she began searching for ingredients to make the pancake batter and a box of pasta for Jane's macaroni and cheese.

There was no doubt that Maura and Jane loved each other dearly, but Angela wondered how long it would take for Jane and Maura to realize they just might be _in_ love as well.

"Too long," Angela sighed, but she was resolute to keep this information to herself, because part of her wished that she was simply imagining things.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading :)


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